


The family we choose

by lauramebob



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarves, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Protective Bilbo, Young Frodo Baggins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauramebob/pseuds/lauramebob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one shots of Frodo with his 'Uncles'. Post BOFA and everyone lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my ideas.

 

The company had ridden out from Erebor as soon as they had received Bilbo's letter telling of the death of his relatives. They had learnt during the quest that, like dwarves, hobbits took family very seriously, they considered Bilbo family and therefore wanted to be there for him in any way they could.

When Bilbo answered the door to them it was with a sad, grateful smile. His complexion was pasty and drawn from lack of sleep and his clothes were dishevelled. Putting it politely he looked bloody awful.

They filed into the kitchen, each of them giving Bilbo's shoulder a squeeze or offering their condolences. When he moved to make tea for them all Dori took the pot from him and gently pushed the hobbit into a chair whilst Balin went and retrieved biscuits and cake from the pantry. They knew that Bilbo would not want to be a poor host even if he was mourning still.

"How've you been keeping Lad?" Gloin asked, wanting to break the silence. Bilbo shook his head ruefully,

"Truthfully? I'm exhausted. Things got a little ...complicated after Primula and Drogo passed."

"Complicated how?" Fili asked

"Their son-my nephew. They named me as his guardian, something which caused a bit of dispute given my...past exploits and the company I keep."

"I am sorry if we have made life here hard for you my friend." Thorin said, Bilbo waved it away,

"You have nothing to be sorry for Thorin. Truth be told I think the lads inheritance when he comes of age played a part in so many suddenly wanting to take him in, especially those thrice-cursed Sackvilles. Speaking of Frodo-" Bilbo rose from his seat and disappeared down the hall. There was silence once again as the dwarves sat pondering how anyone could be callus enough to use a child for their own gain. Bilbo returned a few minutes later with a small, dark-haired fauntling clutching the back of his waistcoat.

"Frodo lad, you remember the dwarves I told you all about?"

Frodo nodded, big blue eyes never leaving the group as Bilbo introduced them one by one, each of them giving the child a smile or small wave, except Bofur who doffed his hat and earned a small giggle.

A knock at the door sent Frodo hurtling back down the hall. Bilbo offered the dwarves an apologetic smile before going to see who it was. After a brief conversation at the door Bilbo returned.

"He's been doing that every time there's someone at the door. He thinks it's someone come to take him away."

"We won't allow them." Thorin said, making his way over to Bilbo, spying Frodo peering from around a door he beckoned the fauntling over. After an encouraging smile from his uncle Frodo shyly made his way over to the intimidating dwarf, who knelt down slowly so as not to send him running again and gently took him by the shoulders.

"You are as much a part of our family as your uncle little one, and if anyone wishes to take you away then they shall have to go through us first."

The others loudly voiced their agreement and Bilbo found himself smirking at the thought of Lobellia Sackville faced with thirteen extremely protective dwarves.


	2. Fun and games

On returning to Bag End from the market Bilbo was more than a bit surprised the place was still standing, considering who had been left in charge. Then he heard the ruckus in the living room. Mentally bracing himself the hobbit poked his head around the door.

Possibly every cushion in Bag End had been thrown higgledy-piggledy over the floor. His nephew Frodo was kneeling on one of the larger cushions doubled over in laughter, Fili was perched on the back of Bilbo's armchair also laughing and in danger of falling off. The source of their amusement seemed to be a peeved Kili, who had a foot on two of the smaller cushions and appeared to be stuck doing the splits.

"Don't either of you help me then!" The younger prince exclaimed trying to shuffle the cushions closer together while trying to keep his balance.

"What on earth?" Bilbo asked trying to fight down his own laughter at the scene.

"Ah Bilbo!" Kili turned his head and gave Bilbo his most charming smile, "Be a friend and give me a hand will you? My dear brother seems to have left me to my fate."

The hobbit moved to comply before being stopped by his nephew's cry of "No uncle! Stay on the rocks!" His eyes wide in childish panic, Fili motioned his head to the cushions by way of explanation.

Bilbo was beginning to understand how Kili had gotten himself in his current predicament as the 'rocks' slid underfoot across the wooden floor but he eventually made it over to the dwarf, allowing Kili to use him as an anchor whilst he bought his feet together.

"Now would someone please tell me what all this is about?"

Kili gave Bilbo an are-you-stupid look before answering with "Floor is lava."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I don't know if they'd use the word 'lava' but just go with it. I drew on personal experience with this one. I found out the hard way when I was about 5 that 'floor is lava' isn't the best game to play when there's a slippery wood floor involved. My cousin's were about as much use as a couple of chocolate fireguards and I was stuck until my uncle took pity on me.


	3. Nightmare

Frodo sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily from the dream he'd just had. He was contemplating asking his uncle Bilbo if he could spend the rest of the night in his room but he had promised him he would try to spend a whole night in his own room and a Baggins did not break their promises.

Deciding maybe a drink would help Frodo got out of bed and padded silently through Bag End, he could make out the various lumps and bumps that represented a snoozing dwarf, two on the floor and one in uncle Bilbo's chair.

He had just gotten himself a cup of water when a loud bang from behind him made him drop it on the floor. Turning to run he went smack into a solid body. Frodo instinctively started hitting out when a pair of arms trapped him.

"Easy lad, easy," An accented voice soothed, "It's just ol' Bofur."

Frodo relented in his assault, allowing the dwarf to pick him up and immediately latching onto his neck.

"Now, what's all this eh?"

"Had a nightmare." Frodo mumbled.

"Ah," Frodo felt the dwarf nod, "terrible business those. Want to tell me about it?"

Frodo shook his head, truth be told he couldn't even remember. He just knew he had woken up feeling terrified.

"In that case what say we get ya all tucked up back in bed?"

The fauntling's grip on his neck tightening told Bofur that that didn't sound like a good idea but he didn't push it as he made his way to Frodo's room and set him down on the bed.

Rather than lying down Frodo continued to sit up. His eyes having adjusted to the lack of light Bofur could see the lad was staring down at his hands as if he had something he wanted to say but couldn't get the words out. Given his experience with his own nieces and nephews Bofur had a feeling he knew what it was.

"Want me to stay until ya fall asleep again?"

Frodo gave an eager nod and Bofur settled on the floor with his back against the bed, feeling a small hand on his hatless head, as if its owner was reassuring himself he was still there.

Bofur woke some time later with his back screaming at him and a warm weight in his lap. Looking down he saw that at some point Frodo had decided Bofur looked more comfortable than his bed and was curled up with his head on Bofur's chest, a small hand fisted in his shirt. Heaving himself up as gently as he could so as not to jostle the still sleeping boy he moved to place Frodo back in bed only to find that even in sleep he was unwilling to relinquish his grip.

Well, may as well make meself comfortable Bofur thought, easing back on the bed himself and stretching out as best as he could (which given the size of the bed wasn't easy).

He was woken again by tiny hands shaking him and a voice right by his ear shouting something about breakfast. Bofur sat up, his back once again making its feelings known about where he had spent the night. He cared about the lad but Mahal did he hope this wasn't going to become a regular thing.


	4. An important question

Given that they all had different responsibilities since the taking back of Erebor it was a rare thing for all thirteen dwarves to be at Bag End at the same time and so they were making the most of it. They had bought some casks of Erebor's finest ale and wine with them and Bilbo had liberally over-stocked the pantry in preparation, never before had Frodo seen so much food in one place-and coming from a hobbit that was saying a lot.

They had spent the afternoon and most of the night eating, drinking and regaling each other with various pieces of news as well as reminiscing about past times. Frodo had laughed so hard at the stories about Fili and Kili when they were younger that cider had come shooting from his nose (which the already laughing dwarves found hysterical).

When everything had died down and everyone was quietly talking amongst themselves Frodo tugged on Bilbo's sleeve and whispered something to him.

"Everyone, Frodo says he has something he'd like to ask you."

The young hobbit cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very self conscious now that he had thirteen pairs of eyes on him.

"Well, uhm, I was wondering-If...I," he took a deep breath, worried that they would laugh at him or refuse. Or both.

"couldIcallallofyouuncleaswell?"

Silence.

"Sorry laddie, what was that?" Oin asked. Frodo smiled sheepishly,

"I was wondering if, maybe, I could start calling you all...uncle...as...well?"

It was a mixed bag of reactions from all of them: Bofur, Ori, Bifur, Nori and Gloin all loudly voiced their consent with cries of 'yes' and 'of course lad' (and in Bifur's case something in Khuzdul), Balin, Dori, Bombur, Oin and Dwalin gave theirs through nods and smiles whilst Fili and Kili sat grinning like idiots and testing the title out on each other. Bilbo was sure that some of their eyes looked a little wet, although he knew it was more than his lifes worth to point it out to them.

The only one yet to give any response was the dwarf king himself. Frodo gazed up at Thorin from his seat next to him. His face was blank as he stared back and Frodo was beginning to worry that he had somehow offended him. Until the dwarf plucked him from his seat and into a gentle hug which Frodo eagerly returned.

"If we're uncles now does that mean we have to start being responsible?"

"Shut up Kili."


	5. A promise kept

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Jedi Ani Unduli on ffnet, who requested the Sackville-Baggins' encountering 13 protective dwarves.

The sight that greeted the thirteen dwarves when they returned to The Shire was one that made their blood boil.

Frodo was waiting for them in his usual spot at the foot of the hill leading up to Bag End, but he wasn't alone.

A hobbit woman with grey hair and a pinched face had a tight grip on Frodo's arm whilst a grumpy looking hobbit gent appeared to be blocking the lads escape as he struggled to free himself.

"Let. Him. Go." Thorin ordered as they grew closer.

"Uncle Thorin!" Frodo called out,

"Uncle." The woman spun around and fixed the dwarves with a look of disgust. Frodo used the distraction to wrench his arm free and make a bee line for them, clutching onto Thorin's leg as the tears started to fall.

"I don't want to go with them, I want to go home, please don't let them take me!" Thorin put a comforting hand on the boy's head.

"You see Otho! He's found yet another way to disgrace the Baggins name! Uncle indeed, well hand him over dwarf, this doesn't concern you."

The dwarves all inwardly groaned. If he was Otho then that made the woman Lobellia Sackville-Baggins. Wonderful.

Thorin picked Frodo up and passed him over to Gloin, who then rearranged himself so he and Frodo were in the middle of the group.

"Anything to do with Frodo concerns us Mistress hobbit," Thorin said, words clipped and voice deceptively calm, "now, if I may ask what happened to upset our nephew so."

"Upset? We're doing the ungrateful creature a favour. That...maniac doesn't know the first thing about children. We would provide him with a loving, nurturing, proper home."

The dwarves had a feeling that the home these two were offering would be anything but loving. Frodo's small whimper served as confirmation.

"I think the lad wants to stay where he is if it's all the same to you." Nori growled, his protective streak coming through. Lobellia snorted,

"He's a child, how could he possibly know what he wants, now why don't all just go away?" She made a shooing motion as if she were swatting a fly, "It's disgraceful, a Baggins associating with a load of vagabond dwarves. Why don't you just turn around and go back to whatever filthy, disgusting mine you crawled out from?"

"Gloin, take Frodo home." Thorin said, feeling his patience for this woman quickly diminishing. If he was going to do or say something rash he'd rather innocent little hobbits weren't around to witness it. Gloin moved to comply, fixing the Sackvilles with a glare which Lobellia seemed to ignore.

"We don't need your kind here. Nothing but thieves and beggars the lot of you."

"They are not!" Frodo shouted squirming in Gloins arms and causing the dwarf to practically drop him.

All eyes were on the little hobbit as he marched up to his relatives, "They're heroes, they fought goblins, and orcs, and a dragon, and Thorin's a king, you don't know what you're talking about-"

He was cut off by a slap around the face from Otho.

"Don't you speak to my wife like that you little brat."

He raised his hand to strike again but was stopped by an iron grip on his wrist.

"I really wouldn't do that again if I were you." Dori said politely, eyes screaming with silent anger; he pointedly tightened his grip for a moment before letting go. He nodded to Thorin before wordlessly scooping up a stunned Frodo and making his way up the hill, whispering comforting words.

Before they had a chance to react Thorin was standing in front of the Sackville's, smiling like a cat that's just cornered a couple of fat mice.

"I think we need to have a talk about how family should be treated."

Behind him the others began toying with their weapons.

For the next week the Sackville's pointedly ignored Bilbo and Frodo and practically ran away whenever they spotted one of the dwarves.

"I know you say you took care of it but what exactly did you do?" Bilbo asked one evening,

Fili shrugged before answering around his pipe, "We made a promise to Frodo and we kept it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah...I made it so the title kind of ties in with the end of 'Introductions'. I figured that since Frodo lost both his parents he would be very protective of anyone he considered family and wouldn't tolerate anyone bad-mouthing them.


	6. Ritual

It wasn't until Frodo had been living with him for almost a year that Bilbo noticed a pattern emerging.

Every time any of the dwarves visited, upon leaving they would either slip a small trinket into the lad's hand as discreetly as possible or else conveniently leave something behind. These items Frodo would then stash in a box under his bed (which as far as he was concerned his guardian knew nothing about) until it was given back to the owner on their return to The Shire.

As far as Bilbo was aware the box currently contained a couple of wooden figures (Bofur or Bifur), a dagger sheath (Dwalin maybe?), a pair of knitting needles which could only belong to Ori, a wooden comb, a number of beads and other hair ornaments.

After Oin ignored Bilbo's pointing out that he had left one of his ear trumpets on the arm of a chair (since the incident in Goblin Town the old dwarf had taken to carrying a spare), which appeared to have been exchanged for one of the beads when the dwarf first arrived, curiosity got the better of him .

"Hold on lad." He said before Frodo had a chance to dart from the room with his newest acquisition, "What's all this about?"

"What do you mean uncle?" Frodo asked, giving Bilbo an innocent look he had obviously learnt from the Durin boys.

"That business with the bead earlier and now this, along with the box of items in your room."

Frodo's face switched from innocent to embarrassed although whether it was from the questioning or the fact his uncle knew of his 'secret' stash Bilbo couldn't tell.

"You'll laugh." He mumbled, suddenly showing great interest in his feet. Bilbo shook his head,

"On my honour I won't laugh, you know you can tell me anything."

Frodo looked doubtful,

"Promise?"

"May Smaug rise from the dead and eat me if I let out so much as a giggle." Bilbo said with exaggerated seriousness, earning him a small smile.

"If they leave something behind they have to come back for it." He answered shyly.

Bilbo nodded in understanding, so the lad was using the items as a form of insurance. It made sense, losing his parents so young and so suddenly.

Kneeling so they were eye to eye Bilbo took his nephew's chin in his fingers, lifting his face.

"Frodo, I promise you they will always come back, even if they don't leave anything behind. It's you they care about, not these trinkets. Understand?"

Frodo nodded, his grip on the ear trumpet loosening slightly.

"By the way, how did you come by this arrangement?"

Frodo had the decency to blush, "I used to take stuff from their coat pockets until uncle Balin caught me."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, hoping a certain pointy haired dwarf knew better than to encourage that particular habit.


	7. The other side of the coin

As he watched from his hiding place Frodo came to the conclusion that his uncles weren't scary in battle. They were downright terrifying.

They were making their way to Erebor when the orcs attacked, the howling of a warg their only warning. Frodo was immediately shoved amongst some large rocks with the harshly whispered order not to move from that spot.

In the chaos that followed the dwarves became almost unrecognisable, their expressions ones of rage and determination, the usually cheery and gentle faces nowhere in sight. Instead of jovial laughs there were almost animalistic shouts and grunts as they hacked and dodged and crushed. Even his uncle Bilblo and uncle Ori wore uncharacteristic snarls as they stood close by, wielding sword and slingshot respectively and striking out at any who came too close to where Frodo was hiding.

He became aware of someone behind him and turned to see a grey-skinned leg. Eyes travelling up he met the face of the orc, its yellow eyes blazing with blood lust, sharpened teeth coated in black spittle. Time seemed to slow as the monster readied to bring his sword crashing down on the young hobbit. Frodo was dimly aware of someone shouting his name in the distance and suddenly Fili was there; his hair flying behind him and tainted red and black with gore, a guttural sound leaving his throat as he drove both of his blades into the orcs throat before giving it an almighty shove with his foot.

It was long after the last orc had been slain until they were able to coax Frodo out; even then he stared at them with a small amount of fear and confusion, trying to figure out who these people were covered in all manner of gore, panting from exhaustion and stone-faced.

It was later still and with some trepidation that Frodo allowed himself to be looked over for any possible injuries by Oin before falling asleep wrapped in Thorin's coat with Bofur's hat swamping his head.

As they checked over their own injuries before bedding down, each of the adults prayed to whoever may be listening that the sleeping child would never again have to witness that side of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of drama for you there. Again drew on personal experience with this one-I'm usually incredibly laid back so the first time I lost it in front of a younger relative he looked so confused and wouldn't come near me for the rest of the day. 
> 
> Anyway, just another little note to say I accept prompts so get in touchwith any ideas you have!


	8. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's meant as a companion piece to 'The other side of the coin' but can be read alone.

A lucky strike from an orc had left Bilbo with a relatively deep gash in his leg. For Frodo's sake he had made out that the injury wasn't as bad as it appeared; in the space of two days though his slight limp grew steadily worse, after a week and with the hobbit nearly crying out in pain whenever he put any weight on the offending limb he relented and allowed Oin to examine it.

Since the attack Frodo had been glued to his uncle's side, watching him intently. He may have been young but he wasn't stupid. He was aware of the false smiles and the way the dwarves voices were too cheery whenever they assured him everything was fine, the concerned looks they exchanged. They were acting the same way the grown-ups had before he found out about his parents, meaning something must be wrong with Bilbo. Very wrong.

The others had been given orders from Oin to keep the lad out of the way until he was done, something they were succeeding in despite Frodo's best efforts to get back to his uncle. He didn't care about a new slight of hand trick Nori had or a new game Fili and Kili had just come up with. He had to stay with Bilbo, why couldn't they understand that? And in his opinion he and Oin had been gone much too long.

After being intercepted for the sixth time, this time by Thorin, Frodo's fear and frustration got the better of him and he broke down crying hysterically in the dwarf's arms.

A single look from Thorin stopped the others from surging forward to offer comfort, the last thing Frodo needed was to feel smothered. Thorin wasn't sure but he thought he caught something that sounded like "Going to die" between sobs as he carried the child a small distance away from the group.

It was several minutes and one wet and snotty shoulder later that Frodo calmed down to the occasional hiccup. After some gentle coaxing he told Thorin about his parents and how no one would tell him what was wrong and wouldn't let him anywhere near them before telling him they were dead.

Thorin felt guilt start gnawing at him. After the scare of the attack they all thought they were protecting Frodo by keeping him in the dark. Turns out they had achieved the exact opposite. How to make it right?

"I want to show you something." Thorin shifted Frodo in his lap so he could roll up his sleeve revealing a long, puckered scar.

"I got sick after I received this, just like Bilbo. Did I die?"

Frodo ran a finger along the scar before shaking his head no. Thorin shifted again to pull the neck of his tunic to one side revealing a smaller, neater scar on his chest, "This one was from a poisoned blade. I'm still here aren't I?" Frodo nodded

"Your uncle Bilbo is one of the strongest people I know. Stronger than me, and if I can pull through these then he's certainly not going to let a cut on his leg get the better of him." He gave Frodo an encouraging smile "he's going to be fine."

They were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"You can go and see him now Laddie." Balin said, the small smile on his face suggesting he hadn't just arrived.

Frodo immediately leapt off Thorin and hotfooted it towards where Bilbo was.

"How much of that did you hear?" Thorin asked once Frodo had disappeared,

"Enough." Balin answered moving to stand beside the younger dwarf, "If I remember correctly you almost died twice from that chest wound."

Thorin shrugged, "some details are best left in the dark."


	9. Replaced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For PrincessMnMz on ffnet, who asked for Frodo liking the elves and the company's reaction to it. It's meant to be a companion piece to the last two chapters but can be read alone.

Why oh why did Bilbo have to go and get himself injured? He had gotten over the worst of the infection in his leg but Oin had (reluctantly) suggested they make use of Lord Elrond's hospitality until the hobbit had made a full recovery. Meaning, for the time being they were surrounded by simpering, tree-loving elves.

Frodo, much to the dwarves chagrin, was immediately taken with the fair folk and they with him. Being such a long lived race children were something of a novelty and one as small as Frodo held even more fascination for them. Numerous times the dwarves had 'rescued' him (and usually with some muttered variation of how elves should go and find their own hobbits) when an elf had the lad perched on their knee toying with his curls or sat across from him smiling indulgently as he sat talking nonsense and asking questions. The twin sons of Elrond were the worst offenders, constantly spiriting the lad away to do Mahal knew what-Fili and Kili were beginning to think they had been replaced in their darling nephew's affections (which in turn led to them creating a lot more mischief than necessary in an effort to win him back).

Bilbo received daily reports from Frodo about his activities with the elves, the lad bouncing around excitedly as he tried to remember every little detail. From the dwarves he received concerns and complaints about Frodo's associating with such an untrustworthy race and couldn't Bilbo perhaps have a quiet word with him (for the lad's own safety of course). Bilbo would merely shake his head and inform them that there was nothing to be done; Frodo was at that age where he saw everyone he met as a potential friend and if he had decided to befriend the elves, well, they would have to stop pouting and accept it. It wasn't as if they'd lost him.

Over the course of their stay the company came to realize that once again Bilbo was right. Frodo would always ask Balin and Dwalin for Dwarven legends and stories of great battles, according to him the stories the Elves told him were too long and boring; after insisting he was old enough to have his own room he would sneak into Fili and Kili's whenever he got lonely or scared. He would sit and play for hours with the wooden toys Bofur and Bifur had made for him rather than the fragile looking thing the elves gifted him with and no matter what Elven garb found its way into his room he refused to take off his tiny fingerless gloves (courtesy of Ori).

Frodo may have been a friend to the elves but he was still their Frodo.


	10. Sick hobbits need rest

Frodo crossed his arms and pouted as he was once again plopped down in bed and cocooned in just about every spare blanket in Bag End.

"Now, you stay there or I'll be forced to tie you to the bed." Dori threatened good naturedly, ruffling the sulking hobbits hair.

Frodo's response was to sniff before defiantly wiping his nose on his sleeve, causing the dwarf to 'tsk' and attack Frodo's face with a handkerchief.

When he was once again left alone Frodo wriggled free of the covers before flopping back on the bed. Besides being ill with a cold he was also unbelievably bored. The dwarves weren't letting him do anything fun; even Fili, Kili and Nori were refusing to be swayed by his insistence that he was feeling much better now, doing their part to make sure the lad stayed in bed until Oin deemed him well enough.

Someone had even gone so far as to confiscate a good deal of his toys from his room, the remaining ones he had gotten bored with (there were only so many games you could come up with with a wooden horse, four soldiers and a dragon). He threw a glare at the bright sun and blue sky outside of his window and proceeded to stare at the ceiling. Life really wasn't fair sometimes.

Bilbo sat in the kitchen with the dwarves as Oin busied himself preparing another concoction for Frodo; he smiled at the memory of the 'ick' face Frodo had pulled the first time he tasted it and wondered how much more his nephew could take. He had had to endure similar treatment when he became ill after their escape from Mirkwood. It was then he learnt that whilst dwarves don't succumb to illness very often, when they did they got ill. Bilbo had had his hands full trying to raise the spirits of many of the dwarves whenever he caught them acting like Frodo was at death's door.

"They're only acting like this because they love you so much." He said, giving Frodo a goodnight kiss on the forehead, "Just humour them for a little longer."

It was three full days later that Frodo was tearing around the garden of Bag End after being declared fit and well. He laughed and pounced on Ori after 'slaying' the dwarf with his wooden sword. The others joined in the laughter when Nori launched a counter tickle attack, declaring dramatically that he would have vengeance for his dear baby brother.

"A-choo!"

All eyes turned to Oin as he produced a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. Frodo, looking as smug as a child could, pointed to the open door of Bag End,

"Bed."


	11. New friends

The dwarves heard Frodo's shout of "They're here!" from outside and were greeted by him charging down the hall towards them as soon as a frazzled looking Bilbo opened the door.

Frodo launched himself into the arms of the nearest dwarf-Dwalin, who caught him easily and lifted him over his head, mindful of any low beams, earning a squeal of delight.

"Told you they'd be here Sam!" Frodo called, it was then the dwarves noticed another pair of eyes watching them.

A chubby, sandy haired boy stood in the doorway of Frodo's room, looking torn between coming out for a better look and running back inside.

"You going to introduce us to your friend Laddie?" Dwalin asked, setting Frodo back down. Frodo strode over to the still dithering boy and tugged him towards the group.

"This is Sam, my best friend." He threw an arm around Sam's shoulders as the other boy gave a bashful smile, as if he were unused to being given such an important title as 'Best friend'.

Each of the dwarves introduced themselves and got a squeak in return which sometimes sounded like "Hello Sir" and other times "How do you do Sir".

"Well Sam, you're a polite young fellow I must say." Balin said, throwing a pointed look at Fili and Kili. Sam shuffled his feet nervously,

"My Gaffer says we might not be the richest folks but manners don't cost nothing."

Balin nodded approvingly and couldn't help smirking a little as Sam looked at Thorin with silent awe (Frodo must have told him all about the King Under the Mountain). Thorin winked at the boys as he made his way into the kitchen.

And was met with the sight of a light haired faunt standing on a stool holding a dark haired babe in his outstretched arms. The babe in turn was stretching out towards an overturned jar, a biscuit in each pudgy hand. Both parties regarded each other in stunned silence until Bilbo's voice rang out,

"Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, make yourselves known this instant!"

Baby Peregrin, whom the dwarves were informed went by 'Pippin' was using Ori as a living climbing frame as the dwarf sat cross-legged on the living room floor, happily sharing a plate of cake with the little one (although it was becoming harder to tell who was becoming the stickier of the two thanks to tiny, jam covered fingers). They had been shocked at how miniscule he was but after several reassurances that he wasn't made of glass and proof in the form of Pippin toddling away in a fit of giggles after colliding with a cupboard door the babe had spent the entire afternoon being passed from dwarf to dwarf and loving all of the attention.

Meriadoc, who preferred 'Merry' was wedged between Fili and Kili in the 'cave' (which was basically a large sheet draped over stacked chairs) they had made with the children earlier. He was listening wide eyed to the stories of their best pranks and Bilbo could practically see the gears turning in the little terrors head as the brothers unknowingly gave one of the most mischievous hobbits in The Shire ideas.

Sam was slowly coming out of his shell, sat at Balin's feet and asking questions the old dwarf was more than happy to answer, with Frodo managing to tear himself away from the food he was sharing with Gloin (meaning he was stealing off the plate whenever Gloin was distracted and the dwarf was pretending he hadn't noticed) whenever he heard something that caught his interest.

"Alright Pippin, say night-night."

Pippin's puppy dog eyes rivalled those of Kili and many of the dwarves felt their resolve start crumbling under their influence as he squirmed in Bilbo's arms, wanting to play some more as Bilbo announced it was time for all young hobbits to be in bed. Sam went obediently enough after wishing the group a collective goodnight and giving a few quick glances over his shoulder as he left the room, Frodo took his time wishing each of his uncles goodnight individually (complete with kisses and cuddles) and it took outright bribery in the form of more stories in the morning to get a stubborn Merry moving.

"Well, it looks as if you all made some new friends today." Bilbo said when he came back from settling Pippin, none of the dwarves contradicted him. Nor was anything said when the children were found puppy-piled inside the 'cave' the next morning with the younger dwarves curled up outside the entrance.


	12. Glimpse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual I own nothing and the rest of the company and Gandalf are aware that Bilbo has the ring. I’m giving a warning for something which may act as a trigger.

Bilbo was near frantic, trying to control his breathing as he once again patted down all of his pockets it had to be here somewhere. Nothing.  
Dropping to all fours he felt around under his bed, hoping to feel the familiar coolness or catch the tell-tale glimpse of gold, where was it?  
The small part of his brain that was still acting somewhat rationally told him that if it was not in his room than it must be somewhere else in the smial. With that in mind Bilbo wrenched the door open and set about stalking down the hall like a blood hound. Must find it. Must find the precious.

Frodo wouldn’t have seen it if the firelight hadn’t made it wink at him, calling him over.  
“Gandalf, look.” Frodo called, holding his find between thumb and forefinger so that their guest could see it. Gandalf had dropped in on one of his fleeting visits to The Shire (tomorrow was Midsummer’s Eve and therefore the perfect opportunity to show off his latest fireworks), taking another swig of ale he looked over to Frodo and inclined his head to show that he was listening, his heart speeding up when he saw the gold band the boy was holding.  
“Uncle Bilbo’s ring. I wonder if he knows he’s lost it.”  
Before Gandalf could say anything Frodo had scampered out of the room.

Now that he was alone Frodo took the opportunity to have a proper look at his uncles magic ring. He was so secretive about it that Frodo had only ever caught fleeting glimpses of it when his uncle would absentmindedly twist it in his fingers. It certainly didn’t look magic. It was just a plain gold band, nothing more. And yet.   
Something wasn’t quite right. Frodo turned the ring over in his hands trying to put his finger on why it felt so...off; like when you wake up in the middle of the night just knowing that something bad’s happened but you’ve no idea what. And if he didn’t know any better he’d swear that somehow or other the ring was staring straight back at him.

A hand snatched the ring out of his open palm.  
“Who told you you could take this?”  
“I-“  
“you’ve no business going through my belongings, do you understand! It’s mine! Mine!”  
“Bilbo Baggins!”  
Bilbo felt his mind clear at Gandalf shouting his name and turned to ask what on earth the matter was. Any and all words lodged in his throat; if looks could kill the hobbit would be dead there and then.  
“Gandalf? What-“

He became aware of sniffling and turned his head again to come face to face with his nephew. Bilbo became aware of everything at once; his hand gripping the lads arm so tightly his knuckles were white, his other arm was drawn back, Frodo cowering looking absolutely terrified, tears streaming down his face. Bilbo let go of Frodo’s arm like he had just been scolded, Frodo in turn bolted away from his uncle and down the hall to the sanctuary of his room.  
“What have I done?” Bilbo covered his face and willed his legs not to give out from under him.  
“I think you and I both know the answer to that. Although the reason why eludes me.”

Bilbo knew full well the reason was now safely in his waistcoat. Even now he was fighting the urge to dip his fingers into his pocket.  
“Excuse me I...I have to-“ he gestured in the direction Frodo had run.  
“Bilbo,” Gandalf’s now gentle tone made him stop again before he had even taken three steps, “is there anything you wish to share with me, anything I may be able to help you with?”  
Everything within Bilbo was urging him to confess everything, to hand the blasted thing over to the wizard and be done with it. After all, what if no one was there to stop him next time?  
“No. Nothing. Excuse me.”  
“Courage indeed.” Gandalf muttered at the hobbit’s retreating form.

Frodo curled up as much as he could under his bed, rubbing at his arm and crying silently. He had never seen his uncle look so angry. For a second Frodo hadn’t even been sure it was Bilbo who had grabbed him, his features so twisted by rage.

Frodo tensed as the door opened and closed,  
“Frodo?” Bilbo called softly. Frodo contemplated staying hidden, his uncle didn’t sound angry anymore, but that could just be a trick.  
“Frodo, I know you’re in here.”  
On receiving no reply Bilbo moved to sit so that he was leaning against the bed.  
“Alright, you don’t have to come out if you don’t want to. I just need you to know I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Bilbo’s breath hitched as he fought back his own tears. He’d almost hurt his nephew, the sweetest boy he’d ever met, whom he’d promised to protect and who trusted Bilbo with his life.

Frodo peeked his head out from under the bed but did not relax. Many a bath time escape had taught him that whilst he could fit under the bed, Bilbo could not and that when he pushed himself back against the wall the older hobbit wasn’t able to reach him.

Bilbo was sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, head in his hands, his breathing shakey.  
“Why does the ring make you angry?” Frodo asked in a small voice. Bilbo turned to look at the small head peeking out at him and gave a watery smile as he contemplated his answer, thinking how to phrase it so the boy would understand.

“Do you remember how upset you were when you lost your favourite toy, how angry you were when you thought Lotho had stolen it?” Frodo nodded, Lotho always was jealous of his dwarf crafted toys.  
“Well, that’s what it’s like for me. The ring is very important to me and I get upset if I’ve lost it or I think someone’s taken it. That is no excuse for how I acted towards you though. I know that you didn’t steal it and I swear to the Valar I will never raise a hand to you like that again.”

Frodo held Bilbo’s gaze for a long minute before wriggling the rest of the way from under the bed. Bilbo opened his arms and Frodo crawled into the space, clinging to Bilbo’s waistcoat as the older hobbit wrapped him up, his embrace a little too tight, one hand running through black curls.

“I wouldn’t want your ring anyway uncle Bilbo. It feels bad.”  
Bilbo nodded against Frodo’s hair. He couldn’t deny the lad spoke the truth and if there was a chance of putting Frodo at risk again then he had no choice. He had to get rid of the ring, for both their sakes. Just, not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this one fought me and fought me hard! Yeah, I was thinking of when Bilbo goes batshit at the giant insect in Mirkwood before realising what he’s done.


	13. Chapter 13: Journey to Erebor (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up this chapter is going to be a mixture of book and film.

Frodo gave a squeak and tightened his grip on Bilbo's hand as a bee the size of a sparrow flew lazily (and loudly) next to his ear.

"It's alright Frodo, they're quite harmless unless you provoke them."

Frodo nodded, tucking himself further into the older Hobbit's side and peering around. He'd been excited at the prospect of finally meeting the Skin Changer from his uncle's stories but now, having seen the size of the local wildlife he wasn't so sure.

"Can Beorn really turn into a bear?" He asked,

"Oh aye, biggest bear you've ever seen." Bofur answered from his spot next to them, mattock at the ready incase said bear decided to make an appearance. They were flanked on the other side by Dwalin whilst Kili and Gloin bought up the rear.   
"Big as a house, claws the length of your arm, mouth that could swallow you up in two bites-" Bofur stopped when he noticed how wide-eyed Frodo had gone and the completely unimpressed glare Bilbo was gracing him with.

After asking one of the enchanted dogs they found Beorn tending to one of the many hives. The Skin Changer gave the group a broad smile after being alerted to their presence by the dog's barking.

"Welcome friends!" He called out jovially as he approached, "It has been too long Little Bunny."

Bilbo made a show of huffing at the nickname, smiling back at the taller being, "Indeed it has Beorn." He answered, attempting to loosen Frodo's grip on his leg.

"Hmm," Beorn crouched so he wasn't quite so tall, "Little Bunny has bought a mouse along." He said, not unkindly. Frodo tried to hide behind Bilbo, who gave Beorn an apologetic smile.  
"Come, you must be hungry after your travels."

It wasn't long before they were sat in the main hall of Beorn's house munching on bread with honey and cream; Frodo perched on Dwalin's knee to better reach the table, the dwarf occasionally helping him drink from an over-sized tankard of milk. Whilst the adults talked amongst themselves Frodo gazed around in fascination.  
Everything was so...big. Frodo had never felt so small in his entire life and he wasn't sure that he liked it.

His attention was caught by one of the smaller dogs (some sort of mongrel from the looks of it) trotting over on all fours, a leather ball in its mouth. It plopped down on the floor next to Frodo and Dwalin, tail wagging and head cocked expectantly.

"Can I play with the dogs?" Frodo asked no one in particular whilst wriggling off Dwalin's lap. Beorn gave a rumbling chuckle which the young Hobbit took as affirmation.

"Not indoors Frodo." Bilbo said around a yawn as his nephew chased after the dog out into the afternoon sunshine.

"I will show you where you can rest." 

Bilbo was sorely tempted to sleep the rest of the day away. They had traveled through the night taking it in turns to carry Frodo as he dozed, not wanting to risk another mountain cave/Goblin trap; there had been no stone giants this time though, much to their relief (and Frodo's disappointment).  
As the others made a move to follow their host Bilbo dithered at the table, shooting a glance towards the open door.  
"I will keep an eye on the young one Little Bunny, you needn't worry."  
Before Bilbo could carry on his internal debate Gloin was hauling him out of his seat and down the hall.

By Bilbo's reckoning it was almost supper time when he woke up. The rest of the house was silent as he made his way to the main hall, wondering what had become of his nephew. His question was answered when he rounded the corner and saw Frodo sat on the dirt floor, Beorn sat across from him and a chess set between them. Frodo looked completely enraptured as Beorn explained something about the piece he was holding. Not wanting to disturb them Bilbo retreated on silent feet, wondering if the animals would mind him sitting in the kitchen for a little while.

"What's that you've got Laddie?" Gloin asked, interupting Frodo's chatter about Beorn's horses (apparently he had promised the lad he could ride one when he was a little bigger) as they settled off the road for a quick bite to eat. 

"Mr Beorn gave it to me." Frodo answered, holding out the wooden bear from where he'd been making it climb over the packs.

"Isn't that one of the pieces from his chess set?" Bilbo asked, settling next to Frodo. 

"He said I could keep it Uncle, and before you ask I made sure to say thank you."

One of the dwarves sniggered before hiding it with a cough.

"Can we visit him again one day?" Bilbo smiled as Frodo made the bear run up and down his leg.

"I don't see why not."


	14. Journey to Erebor Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frodo is a little shit.

Tauriel moved them at a rapid pace, explaining to Bilbo that whilst the forest was for the time being relatively free of spiders it was still unwise to linger. Frodo once again found himself being carried so as not to slow them down or get lost (they’d learnt that it wasn’t just Bilbo who had a talent for disappearing from under their noses) and the dwarves stifled their laughter at the she-elf’s look of surprise when he reached out to her. It was not lost to Bilbo how she briefly looked towards Kili for reassurance before bending down to gingerly take the faunt from Bofur’s arms (“He’ll only keep squirmin’ if you don’t Lass.”) and holding him in the awkward way adopted by those who are not used to holding small children.

“Are you the elf from uncle Fili’s stories, the one from Lake Town?”

“I am.” Tauriel stiffened slightly as Frodo’s arms tightened around her neck in a hug.

“Thank you for saving my uncle Kili.” He pulled back far enough to give her a somewhat critical stare, “You were right uncle Kili. She’s very pretty.”

Kili decided he was finding the fastest, deepest part of the river and throwing himself in.

 

Legolas held the gaze of the small creature currently snuggled in Tauriels’ arms, neither of them willing to lose the impromptu staring contest.  

“Don’t be rude Frodo. Introduce yourself.”

The little one dipped his head in a quick bow, “Frodo Baggins, at your service. Why did you think Gimli was a goblin?”

“ _Frodo!_ ”

Legolas barely had time to come up with a dignified (and diplomatic) response before Frodo continued, “Have you never seen a goblin before? I haven’t but I know that they don’t look anything like dwarves, I still can’t tell dwarf women and dwarf men apart though I don’t think many people can. Uncle Oin said it’s something to do with-“

"Frodo! Apologise to Prince Legolas for being so rude." The older hobbit  fixed his nephew with a stern glare whilst the dwarves were all turning interesting shades of red and breaking into coughing fits in an effort and cover up their laughter.

Frodo looked up at Legolas, eyes huge and bottom lip jutting out in a pout, “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

The prince gave one of his barely-there smiles before reaching out to somewhat awkwardly lay a hand on Frodo's dark curls, "It is already forgotten Little One."

It was only when his back was turned did Legolas allow himself a wry grin. If the child was just as outspoken around his father than this visit should prove to be very interesting indeed.

Thranduil's face remained impassive as he tried to ignore the muffled (badly disguised) giggles  and whispers of those witnessing their king receiving a lecture on manners from a creature no higher than his knee.

Bibo was fairly certain he was about to have some sort of conniption as his nephew informed the king of Mirkwood that his Uncle always told him to help people who are in trouble, not lock them up.

After receiving assurances from Thranduil that no, they would not be in the dungeons for the duration of their stay Frodo was more than happy to trot alongside the elf who had been assigned to show them their rooms.

"That's it." Bilbo whispered to Gloin, "I don't care how long it takes, from now on we take the long way around."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't the best chapter; it turns out Mirkwood is bloody hard for me to write when it doesn't involve angst but I didn't want to jump straight from Beorn's to Erebor.


	15. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys arrive in Erebor and meet another Durin.

Frodo kept a loose hold of the bottom of Dwalin’s tunic as the large Dwarf led them through the crowds in the direction one of the guards had pointed them. He would have happily stopped and inspected every new thing they came across if he wasn’t under strict instructions to not let go of Dwalin and his Dwarf uncle clearly wasn’t planning on stopping for anything. Gloin and Bofur had left them not long after their arrival to track down their own families, leaving Dwalin, Bilbo and Frodo to negotiate the hustle and bustle that was Erebor’s main market.

 The crowd thinned as they entered what looked to be an outdoor arena where a familiar blond was stood leaning against a wall, sipping from a waterskin whilst listening to a dark haired Dwarf who stood alongside him inspecting an axe blade.

Dwalin chuckled before giving Frodo a small nudge on the shoulder as permission.  Frodo didn’t need telling twice and charged, quickly followed by Kili.

“Get back to it ya Slackers!”

“Uncle Fili!”

Fili turned just in time to get an armful of Faunt, both of them laughing as Frodo wrapped his arms tightly around Fili’s neck.

“I always knew he was your favourite!” Kili shouted as he got closer, pointing an accusing finger at Fili . Frodo reached an arm out to include Kili in the hug, assuring him that they were both his favourites as the two brothers knocked foreheads above him.

Eventually Kili managed to detach himself and turned his attention to the other Dwarf,

 “Hello Amad.” He said knocking foreheads with her before throwing his arms around her in an embrace she happily returned.

“Dis. Boy’s mother and Thorin’s sister.” Dwalin muttered to Bilbo as they approached the happy reunion.

 

“Hello my little warrior.” Dis said, briefly running her fingers through Kili’s hair before holding him at arms length, “Back in one piece this time I see.” 

“Don’t believe for one second he made it easy though.” Dwalin replied, grasping her arm in a warriors handshake as Kili gave an exaggerated pout before turning his attention back to his brother.

“And this must be the Bilbo Baggins I’ve heard so much about.” Dis said, addressing the hobbit who was currently hovering behind Dwalin, unsure of how to approach this new Durin. Would she be more like her brother or her sons?

“Uhm, at your service Lady Dis.” Bilbo answered, giving her a quick bow. Dis gave him a charming grin he had seen on Kili many times.

“just Dis will do. There’s no need to be so formal my friend. From what I understand we are family after all. And on that note, I take it the little one who has my sons wrapped around his little finger is their famous nephew?”

Bilbo blinked a couple of times, taken aback slightly by her casual attitude. Oh yes, Fili and Kili definitely took after their mother.

“Uhm, yes that’s Frodo.”

“May I?” Dis asked, looking slightly unsure as she tilted her head towards the small group which had moved towards one of the weapons racks. It Bilbo a minute to realise what she was asking.

“Of course, of course. Frodo loves meeting new people. Dwarves especially for some strange reason.”

“We’ll go and see if we can drag Thorin away from paperwork.” Dwalin said, turning to leave.

 

Frodo looked up from the wooden training dagger Fili was showing him how to hold as the strange dwarf approached kneeling so she was eye level with him, “A fine choice of weapon little one.”

“I’ve been trying to nudge him towards archery but no luck so far.” Kili said from where he was sat cross legged on the ground next to Frodo, “Frodo, this is Dis. Mine and Filis’ mother.”

“Frodo Baggins at your service.” Frodo schooled his face into what he thought was a serious expression and gave a small bow, something he’d seen his Uncle Bilbo do many times but which was somewhat hindered by the wooden dagger he had clutched to his chest. Dis was smitten.

“Dis daughter of Thrain at yours. Now Master Baggins, I wonder if you might help me with something?”

Frodo nodded cautiously and Dis leaned in slightly closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper,

“I have a plate of Bomburs’ special biscuits waiting for me in the kitchens and I’m afraid there may be too many to eat by myself. What I really need is a young hobbit to give me a hand with them, you wouldn’t happen to know such a person would you?”

“I can help!” Frodo answered,  the dagger flying from his hand in his enthusiasm which caused him to blush and cover his moth with his hands in childish horror. Fili and Kili shared a grin with their mother, “Well that’s a fine idea.” Dis answered standing back up and extending a hand to Frodo, “Shall we then?” Frodo slipped his hand in hers before looking around,

“Uncle Fili and Uncle Kili too?”

“Of course.”

Fili took Dis’ remaining hand whilst Kili took Frodo’s, Frodo reeling off a list of all the people they had to save a biscuit for as the four of them made their way to the kitchens.

 

 

 


End file.
